


You Won't

by Moransroar



Series: Mormor drabbles [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, nothing explicit just mostly referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: Anonymous asked: Sebastian comforting Jim after a really bad episode and just holding onto him (partly because he's scared of loosing him)





	You Won't

Sebastian is thankful more often than not that he  _knows_  Jim. Like, really knows him. Not just what his favourite tea is, or what he likes for dinner, or where he likes to go when he needs to think. Not that those facts are any less important than the knowledge he has, but it sure won’t help when Jim is damn near ready to jump off the very next bridge.

It starts out simple and pretty much indetectable. It’s like it’s sneaky, and Seb supposes it is, because it  _sneaks_  up on Jim sometimes when he least expects it.

So it starts out simple. Jim is just a little quieter than normally, he’s more to himself, he’s thoughtful. Sometimes he gets out of bed at the very last minute and looks like he both didn’t want to, and didn’t sleep a lot to begin with.

Then he starts cancelling things. Appointments, meetings, deals for which he has to get out of the house. He stops brushing his teeth or bothering with clean clothes. Sometimes he stops eating.

Sebastian looked back sometimes and pitied the man he was before he knew what he did now, because he’d been so stressed about it, and scared, and he never knew what to do. Now, it’s still a guessing game whenever it happens, but at least he knows the signs and can jump in before things get messy.

And things have gotten messy before. They don’t talk about that.

So when he makes Jim breakfast (his favourite, always - man deserves that and so much fucking more) and comes home to find it untouched and cold on the kitchen counter where he’d left it, he checks Jim’s toothbrush first. When it’s dry and there’s crumbles of dried toothpaste between the hairs he checks Jim’s laundry basket. Empty. Fuck.

Seb steps into Jim’s bedroom and it’s dark at first because the thick black curtains are closed, cutting out any and all light. He expects Jim to be asleep but instead when his eyes adjust he can see him sitting on the edge of the bed, naked back towards him, shivering, it seems. Not surprising, as it’s bloody fucking cold in the room and it’s mid-January but of course Jim hasn’t turned on the radiator in his room. Sebastian sighs softly, but when he approaches with the objective to tuck Jim gently back in bed, he finds the man crying instead.

And though Sebastian knows Jim, really knows him, it’s still strange to see him cry. He hardly does. If anything, the fucker bottles it up and when he’s feeling more…stable, he goes and lets it out in different ways. Shooting, stabbing, killing, fucking. Anything. Crying though? Doesn’t really happen in their household. Not on Sebastian’s end and certainly not on Jim’s end.

But Jim is definitely crying, and Sebastian’s immediate initial instinct is to sit down next to him and wrap an arm around him. And then Jim - as if he’s light as a fucking feather and small as a child - climbs into his lap and buries himself into Sebastian’s embrace. There’s a moment of silence before Sebastian trusts his voice enough to speak.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” He whispers against Jim’s hair.

Jim just nods.

“How bad?” Sebastian dreads the question but he doesn’t  _not_  want to know, He needs to know.

It’s quiet for a long few moments and Sebastian has almost given up on finding out just when Jim manages to gesture vaguely to the bedside table. In the dark, Sebastian doesn’t see much at first. Maybe the outline of a small, plastic bottle? Nothing new. He knows Jim has trouble sleeping, knows he takes pills for that. An actual prescription, too. All legal and proper and shit. Maybe because Sebastian insisted that he find some help for his insomnia.

But as he looks at it longer, he sees the cap of the bottle is popped open like a gum container, and its contents are spilled out over the surface of the bedside table. Sebastian tries to reason with himself that Jim might’ve had trouble opening the container and taking one out the night before, but then he looks down and finds one of Jim’s hands open.

It holds a similar quantity of pills as are lying on the table.

Sebastian’s heart stops for a moment.

“No, no no,” he mumbles under his breath, and then he’s hugging Jim closer, tighter, harder than before. “Don’t you dare, Jim. Don’t you dare do that without me. Without me knowing or being here with you. Don’t do this alone.”

Jim is still awfully quiet but Sebastian can feel him shocking lightly against him, which means he’s still crying. Maybe he feels bad about this. Sebastian’s brain hopefully provides that maybe Jim didn’t want to actually do this without him.

Sebastian kisses Jim’s neck, and his jaw, and his cheek, his temples, forehead, hair, anywhere he can fucking reach. He brushes the pills out of Jim’s hand and they fall to the rug on the floor, disappearing. Sebastian doesn’t want to see him with any pills any time soon, that’s for sure. Jim lets Sebastian hold him and soothe him and he seems to listen to the words of comfort he’s trying to provide. Jim could have  _died_  and Sebastian wouldn’t have known about it.

Fuck. He thought he knew Jim better.

But sometimes this shit just went too fucking fast.

“I love you. Please, Jim.  _Please_  come to me if you ever feel like doing this again.  _Please_. I asked you last time. Why didn’t you come to me?”

Jim shrugs and shakes his head helplessly, as if he doesn’t know either. Sebastian just kisses his cheek firmly and pulls him close once more.

“Okay. Okay, that’s okay. I should have known anyway. I didn’t think things would get this bad again,” Sebastian breathes against the side of Jim’s neck.

Eventually, after sitting in more silence, and after more soothing words on Sebastian’s end, they both calm down and lie down on the bed. Sebastian pulls Jim to his chest and lets him rest there. He must be exhausted. Even Seb is dead tired.

“I’m sorry,” Jim eventually croaks. His eyes are closed, albeit red and puffy, and he looks almost peaceful.

Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s okay. I know you feeling like this ain’t your fault. Can you try to communicate before it drives you to something like this next time?”

It takes a moment, but Jim nods. “I can try,” he says. Promises.

Sebastian takes a quiet breath and pulls Jim even closer, until he can press a soft kiss to his lips. “I don’t want to lose you, Jim,” he mumbles with a grimace.

Jim shakes his head this time and kisses him again. “You won’t,” Jim promises. Seb really wants to believe him. And for now, that’s what he’ll do.

“You won’t lose me.”


End file.
